A Most Perfect Morning
by Coffee Reveries
Summary: A small fluff piece prompted by the Harmony & Co. Lyric Llama challenge, loosely based on a song verse. Harry and Hermione spend a morning together and just one kiss is capable of changing everything. EWE!


**Prompted by Harmony & Co's 'Lyric Llama' challenge where we are given the verse of a song to inspire a little piece. My verse was: '_One kiss is all it takes, fallin' in love with me, possibilities, I look like all you need.' _\- "One Kiss" by Calvin Harris and Dua Lipa. **

**Not my favorite type of music, but the words helped me come up with this...**

**Enjoy and Review!**

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Her note came flying into his office at the Auror headquarters attached to her owl's leg. It was just past nine in the evening, way beyond ministry working hours—a testament to just how much Hermione Granger knew him.

"Thank you, Perdita…" He ruffles the feathers on top of her head and feeds her a treat before she flies off again. He opens the folded piece of parchment and smiles at the impeccable cursive handwriting he sees, like something out of the 18th or 19th century, but also completely and absolutely _her_—nestled between the paper is an expected ancient drachma coin that she found while excavating with her team on the coast of Alexandria and ingeniously turned into a portkey. It was something she did sometimes—prepare for them to meet for tea or a stroll in a mysterious part of the world she wanted him to see, the list of places was long by now, but she never ceased to surprise or amaze him. Harry often wondered how on earth she had the time to find places and set up the portkey illegally with her busy schedule, but then again this was Hermione Granger, so he would just shrug it off and appreciate her efforts.

_Meet me tomorrow morning 9 sharp!_

_-H_

Harry tucks her message and the coin in his pocket and turns off the lights, apparating to the luxurious but frightfully empty flat he lives in, on the top floor of a remodeled 12 Grimmauld Place—free of all screaming paintings and dark and oppressive décor.

When he arrives home the living room is dark aside from a lamp by his sofa that he probably forgot to turn off earlier. He imagines Andromeda Tonks is probably in bed with a book by now in her part of the large Black family home and Teddy is probably barely containing his excitement in preparation for his first Hogsmeade weekend as a first year. How on Earth did time pass him by so quickly, Harry wonders. From the end of the war until now, almost everything was like a blur to him. He misses Teddy Lupin like one would miss their home after years of travel…

He sets the portkey on top of the round dining room table with a tired sigh. The gash on his right shoulder still hurts from a stray spell that had struck him during a particularly difficult arrest last night. He darts straight toward the small kitchen that overlooks Highsbury Fields park and its vintage street lights illuminating the winding trails between trees with a soft orange-y glow.

He opens the door to the fridge and shakes his head to himself when he sees a muggle Tupperware inside with a post-it note in Andromeda's Healer scrawl that reads '_Enjoy!'. _Harry knows very well that she is just as lonely as he is with their boy now in Hogwarts. He makes a mental note to return the favor soon and pulls the homecooked food out, using a simple spell to warm it up.

Harry grabs a fork from the dish rack and doesn't even bother with a plate, heading straight for the couch and the telly that he had installed when he first moved in, digging into the food as soon as he lands on yet another documentary about aliens building the Egyptian pyramids—something he knows drives a certain best friend of his completely and utterly mad. Harry smiles and chuckles at the thought of her scrunching her nose and rolling her eyes as she often does at humanity's utter stupidity.

He can't wait to see her tomorrow—it's been two months too long after all.

…

At promptly nine in the morning, dressed in clean day clothes and debuting his new cologne Harry activates the awaiting portkey. He closes his eyes as the familiar queasy sensation overtakes him and he feels dizzy, from the twists and turns that lead him to his destination. A matter of minutes later his eyes are still squeezed shut, but already his nose captures a different scent and his feet are firmly touching the ground. He opens his eyes and finds himself just outside bright red gates that lead him into a stunning park full of green and tree canopies in stunning shades of red, orange and burnt-yellow. As he slowly makes his way in he is thankful for having the oversight to put on a sweater, as the air is chilly, typical of autumn. As he continues his path ahead, not entirely sure of where in the world he is at he sees a sign written in what could only be Chinese or Japanese—he smiles.

Slowly Harry takes in the people that surround him, most of them petite with dark hair, walking to and froe in their coats, silky heads of neat black hair, unlike his perpetual mop. One or another group of people he can tell are tourists, and the Americans especially he can spot from afar with their khaki pants, fancy cameras and hiking shoes that seem a bit excessive.

Harry passes a quiet lake surrounded by hills and more hills with trees—one of the most stunning and peaceful places he's ever seen. He breathes in and appreciates the fresh air and the sunshine that escapes the fluffy clouds here and there.

He can't tell if he's walking in the right direction or not, she didn't think it necessary to give him a clue, so as he often did, Harry allowed for his intuition to guide him and so finds himself climbing up a hill. Once he does, he is surprised to see a huge palace in the horizon—ancient-looking and magnificent, with water wells here and there and wind-chimes hanging on the trees, the wind rhythmically playing them like a most harmonious symphony.

That's when he spots her dressed in a red coat with her pair of favorite and worn out jeans underneath and a simply white t-shirt underneath, her golden curls held up by her wand, a few ringlets escaping the updo and framing her face. She is deeply engrossed in a book, which doesn't surprise him in the slightest and next to her is a small whicker basket which he imagines is their breakfast.

He walks towards, not at all in a hurry, enjoying the scenery and the one of a kinds sights of the place. When he towers over her, his form casting a shadow partly above where she is reading he notices the corner of her lips curve up slightly, acknowledging his presence—but still her eyes don't budge from her reading and Hermione is also in no hurry to greet him.

He takes a seat next to her, beneath the shade, stretching his legs in front of him and crossing his ankles comfortably. Harry doesn't say a single word as he opens the lid of the basket and pulls out a thermos, and teacups and delicate porcelain saucers for the both of them.

He sets them out on top of the basket and before he can pour anything, she turns her face to look at him, brown eyes piercing into his very soul.

"Where are we exactly?" He asks her and she sets her book down on the other side of her.

"Nara, Japan…" He nods and looks out to the huge park surrounding them.

"Beautiful…" She smiles, her brown eyes bright. He pours them the tea and they sit in comfortable silence for a few minutes. As much as he wants to enjoy Nara, he can't help but stare at her—more beautiful than anything, delicate freckles bridging her nose and the perfect curve of her neck so close to him, orange blossom scent so delicious… His heart is thumping wild in his chest, he doesn't understand why it has—it's not something he can control.

When she bows her head down to rummage through something in the basket, Harry doesn't know exactly what happens, but his fingers work of their own accord and tuck a curl delicately behind her ear. Her first reaction is to raise her head and look at him, eyes wide—she could feel it too—the same electricity that ignited and breathed life into his very being from just the slightest of touches.

His fingers bury themselves in her curls and Hermione freezes—her heart also beats wildly.

He leans in and presses his soft lips on hers and though at first Hermione does not react her eyes flutter closed and she presses her own lips against his, a bit harder, a bit more desperate and her arm wraps around his neck, fingers combing through the dark and overgrown locks at the back of his neck. He deepens the kiss, biting her bottom lip gently and inserting his tongue. Soon, they are battling for dominance and fighting the lack of oxygen. When they part, Harry presses his forehead to hers, eyes still closed, chest heaving, cheeks rosy and lips swollen.

They have crossed the line, nothing will ever be the same again.

Moments later Harry feels something suddenly nudge at him rather forcefully from behind, and he's certain it isn't Hermione. She tries to stifle her laughter, covering her lips with her hand and when he turns around he comes face to face with a deer, looking straight at him, lovely brown fur dotted with light-tan dots, brown eyes cute and clever... like Bambi, only real. After the deer, appears another one then another, and they mischievously try to get into Hermione's picnic basket, unafraid and all at ease with the humans before them.

"Deer, Hermione? Really?" Her loud burst of unapologetic laughter is the most beautiful sound Harry has ever heard and he can tell even the nosy deer are baffled. He picks up the basket and throws pieces of the bread she packed in the distance and they eagerly run off.

"I think they're cute—they remind me of you." He shakes his head and smiles at her so tenderly, eyes so full of love that she can hardly believe it. He leans back into the tree and pulls her into his side, letting her snuggle into him. The sun in Japan is beginning to set and quite wondrously it's the perfect start to a perfect morning and to a perfect future together, as something beyond just friends.


End file.
